Simplicity: Shikamaru Nara
by overtheyears
Summary: When it’s half empty, it is a hassle. Half full. That’s when it’s Shikamaru’s simplicity.


Simplicity was all that Shikamaru Nara wanted in life.

Nothing that required to much effort and nothing that caused him to do things when he wasn't in the mood.

But getting stuck with Temari as a girlfriend was just the opposite. Every time she was around it was, do this Shikamaru, you forgot to clean the dishes Shikamaru, get up Shikamaru your parents are going to be here in a little while. Yaddah Yaddah.

It was nothing but a bunch of bullshit.

He had hoped nothing more would come out of moving out of his parents house. No nagging. No pushy women. No responsibility.

Dreams do crash down fairly fast.

Yet, as he lay there in bed, his finger tips subconsciously running themselves down the females naked back who laid above him, he couldn't help but realize that there will never really be much of any adornment in his life.

There will also be those troublesome times when he'll have to deal with things that nobody enjoyed to deal with. Those times when something will go wrong that was never actually meant to go wrong.

And, for each predicament he gets himself into, there will always be those silly consequences that will cause nothing but drama.

Only one word came to mind when he reminisces on his life.

Hectic.

Although, it wasn't always hectic. It all depends on what you consider hectic.

Him? He found the saying 'Is that glass half full or half empty?' an ironic way to compare with his life.

When it's half empty, it is a hassle.

Half full. That's when it's Shikamaru's simplicity.

The name of his easiness: Michiruko Yura.

Nothing but a plain young girl with a bit of problems. Known around the village as slightly a punk. Known for her temper and sudden impulsive acts. To her shoulder length dark violet hair with the crazy jagged layers. And to the letter three tattooed onto her left wrist.

But nobody knows her quite like he does.

To him, she doesn't even compare to a punk. A punk is someone who is rude, obnoxious, and behaves in ways that a juvenile child does. Doing all of it on purpose. When it comes to Michiruka, it's all in her personality traits.

And that, just scores points on the top of his list called 'Things I adore about Michiruko Yuna.'

Her temper and sudden impulsive acts just causes her to be the apple in his eye. It doesn't take much to fire her up and it's then that the cuss words start flying. And it's then that he can't help but to laugh. His laughing causes her impulsive talk. Which causes her to ramble and become easily flustered. On occasion, the sudden acts that aren't thought out, are used to great measure.

Her hair is just a figure of who she is. Showing she's a bit rough around the edges but she's just as soft as she is ridged.

Number three tattoo? A signature piece of permanent ink which she considers to be a very important part of who she was. That single number meaning Mudoru; as in curse. She doesn't much talk about why she had gotten it. Or why she picked that certain number meaning that certain word but this is just something that creates bonus points.

She doesn't want to talk much about something that could lead to a deep conversation.

He's not going to lie, it would be to troublesome having to listen to something that would take hours. Not that he didn't care. It's just that he doesn't want to bring up old wounds. If there are any.

His dark eyes coasted down to the warmth that shifted above him. The single most visible smile ghosted it's way onto his face when her eyelids opened. Exposing her chocolate brown eyes. So dark that they almost seemed black at times. At others, like now, light enough to actually see the pupil with ease.

The eyes which showed so much emotion when someone took the time to actually study her.

A groggy smile made it's way onto her face as she rested her chin on his chest. Her thin, light pink lips clashing beautifully with her pale skin.

If it wasn't for the winter, she probably would have more color to her body. But even with the love of warm fuzzy coats, it didn't stop her from getting sick with ease.

With her hair in a mess, his own brown eyes darted around her face to the bed head she had. Then again, it didn't help that he helped make it worst that it normally would be.

"Hey," she whispered. Her voice clearly sluggish and her throat dry.

"Hi."

Tightening her grip around his torso, Michiruka managed to lift her upper body high enough to brush her lips against his.

He loved her lips. As soft as silk. No matter what. They always seemed to have the distinct taste of strawberry no matter how much he managed to take that delicious tasting lip gloss off of her lips.

Shikamaru couldn't complain though. That was one of the many things he admired about her.

Not even counting her many fetishes that she enjoyed to indulge upon. Although, he couldn't help but love her love for boba. The sweet, chewy, tapioca balls found at the bottom of her favorite chilled tea.

Pulling away from him, she laid back onto his own bare chest. On of her hands leaving around his torso and creating circles on his chest.

"What are you thinking about Shikamaru?"

God. How he loved the way his name just seemed to roll of her tongue.

"Honestly?"

"Honestly."

"You," he murmured softly. His eyes softening as he met hers.

A light hue of pink rushed to her cheeks as another grin came to her face.

Lifting herself up once more, she placed her lips against his once more. Giggling when he rolled her onto her back.

"I love you," Michiruko whispered in his ear.

"I love you too," he responded before kissing her again.

Yup. She was his simplicity.

Just a simple girl who seemed to careless that their love was nothing more than an unseen act.


End file.
